


The Portrait

by CharlotteAshmore



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Cursed Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Cursed Storybrooke, F/M, Fluff, Our Favorite Imp, Romance, Smut, The Enchanted Forest, True Love, True Love's Kiss, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-24 14:37:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16642091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlotteAshmore/pseuds/CharlotteAshmore
Summary: After his infamous deal with Ella, the heroes have a better cage for Rumpelstiltskin … a painting. With no way to free himself, he is swept along with the Dark Curse to Storybrooke along with everyone else. Only with the love of a certain librarian can he ever hope to be free … if only she'll believe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LicieOIC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LicieOIC/gifts).



> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. This is a work of pure fiction. All characters and events depicted in this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
> 
> On tumblr, licieoic prompted: While the 'heroes' have Rumple imprisoned, they decide to implement a more permanent solution. (Maybe Blue suggests this.) Using a shit ton of fairy magic, they trap Rumple in a painting. Fast forward to cursed Storybrooke, only Belle isn't living in the hospital basement, she's the town librarian (or whatever). And her home happens to have this painting that she loves (or she buys it or acquires it some other way). 
> 
> The funny thing is, the painting appears to be magical. The figure in the painting (Rumple) moves. She never sees it happen, but sometimes he's sitting at a spinning wheel, sometimes looking out a window, sometimes sipping tea from a chipped cup, and sometimes just looking out at the observer. The longer the painting is in Belle's presence, the more it seems to act up. She's fascinated by it and doesn't tell anyone about the special properties, because she's afraid they'll think she's nuts. And she adores the figure in the painting. 
> 
> Maybe she chats to him when she gets home (because she always checks to see if he's doing something different) and she begins thinking of him as a bizarre kind of roommate. One night, maybe after going out for drinks with the girls, Belle drunkenly kisses Rumple's painted figure. And even though she's cursed, True Love can break anything, so she gets un-cursed and Rumple poofs out of the painting!
> 
> A/N: Yeah, so when I saw this prompt from my darling friend, I just couldn't resist taking on this story. I really hope you all enjoy it. Please review! & happy reading :o)

 

 

          Snow shuddered as she stood before the plain wooden pedestal in the council chamber and stared at the ornate gold gilt frame with its blank beige canvas. She could feel the usually comforting presence of her husband where he pressed against her back, his hands resting lightly upon her shoulders. Nothing about this plan could bring her peace … not for a very long time.

          "This is wrong, Charming. I think we should reconsider," she said softly, ever mindful of the others in the room. Her council – consisting of their closest friends and most trusted knights – sat a discreet distance away, some smug, others wary, but all in agreement as to what should be done … all except the princess.

          "Snow, this is the best option we have. You heard Blue … there is no guarantee the magic on the cell will hold," James argued, his hands trailing gently over his wife's arms to rest on her swollen belly. "We have to put the needs of the kingdom … the needs of our child … first." He sighed as she pushed away from him, shaking her head.

          "It's inhumane, and no matter what you say, James, somewhere buried beneath all that dark magic, Rumpelstiltskin  _is_  still a human being."

          "And with the queen's curse nearly upon us, we can't take the chance he will gain his freedom and help her make matters worse."

          Snow glared at him as she caressed her stomach where their daughter rested, oblivious to the happenings in the council room. "Do you forget so easily you never would have found me to wake me from my sleeping curse if it weren't for him? You owe him, Charming."

          "I've more than paid my debt to the imp, and am lucky to have survived his  _price_ ," the prince spat in a furious whisper.

          "You'll forgive me if I don't agree," came her sarcastic rejoinder. "The Dark One has never offered a deal where the price was more than we were willing to pay, and you know it. His deals are always more in his favor than ours, but he has never lied to us about them."

          Charming gnashed his teeth, his frustrated breath whooshing out of his nose. "Snow, this is best for everyone involved. You weren't opposed to Blue's idea until she mentioned the painting, which is why he's trapped in the mines in that cell." He reached for her, but she moved away. "Have you forgotten he would have taken Ella's baby? Or that Prince Thomas hasn't been seen –"

          "Since Ella went back on her deal! She signed his contract, David," the princess hissed. "Rumpelstiltskin shouldn't be blamed because she signed it before reading it first."

          "You want him to have her baby?!"

          "Of course not!" she protested. "But I don't think he should be trapped forever in a painting!"

          David’s shoulders drooped wearily. For so long they'd been fighting against the queen and her threats of a curse. They'd barely had a moment's peace since their marriage, and now they were fighting amongst themselves. Now with the birth of their daughter looming in the not too distant future and the knowledge he'd be separated from her and her mother for almost three decades, he couldn't take the chance the imp would make it worse. "I'm sorry, Snow, but this is our best chance."

 

*.*.*

 

          The Dark One stared mutinously at the three fairies as he was dragged from the cart and led inside the White palace. Being moved from his cell to the palace couldn't be a good sign. His entire body ached from the magic they'd used to keep him immobile and powerless, but his weathered features revealed nothing of what he was feeling. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing they’d caused him physical pain.

          This wasn't supposed to be happening. He was destined – by his own design – to remain in the cell until the queen could cast the curse. He'd seen the future, knew exactly how it was to come to pass – at least this one small part of it – and he did not need these do-gooder heroes to make it deviate from its course. He did his best to stifle the shiver tingling along his spine. If the fairies were involved, this would not end well for him.

          Rumpelstiltskin barely noticed the rich appointments along the corridors as he was led to the council chamber, but his mind cleared abruptly as he was brought face to face with Snow and her charming prince. She didn't look at all happy, something which should have given him a measure of warning. She looked as if her dearest friend had died. He knew his dagger was safe, protected by more enchantments than an entire legion of fairies could break through, so he knew it wasn't  _his_  death which would have her looking like this … not that she would to begin with.

          The prince stepped forward and nodded to the guards who held the Dark One so firmly in their grasp, dismissing them. Rumpelstiltskin swayed unsteadily on his feet, but managed to catch his balance before he fell. The fairy magic kept him on his feet, kept him aware, but still left him in a void where he remained weak and powerless to use his magic.

          "Rumpelstiltskin, you are hereby banished," the prince said, his azure gaze cold.

          The imp's penetrating stare flickered to the three fairies, his eyes filled with the intense loathing he felt for their leader. He didn't feel any warmer feelings for her companions, Cyan, with her twinkling golden light which reminded him so much of Belle when he'd first met her, nor Emerald, Blue's sycophantic right hand. Finally, he looked back at the prince. "Really, dearie?" he rasped, managing to keep his voice steady.

          "We cannot risk you somehow aiding the queen in her quest to destroy the kingdom. Therefore, you will be banished where you cannot harm anyone ever again."

          Snow covered her mouth with her hand and clenched her eyes tightly closed, unable to witness the fear she'd briefly glimpsed in his large amber eyes as they fell upon the gilt frame and blank canvas sitting so innocuously upon the pedestal.

          "All because of my contract with the cinder girl?!" he raged.

          "You have committed the vilest and most unspeakable acts imaginable against mankind for centuries," the Blue Fairy said, a sanctimonious smile upon her face. "Your reign of terror is at its end, Rumpelstiltskin."

          Before he could protest further, the fairies took their position before the painting and combined their magic to open a swirling vortex of light. It was then he knew what they'd planned for him all along … and there was nothing he could do to stop it. His head spun as the swirling colors crept ever closer until they wrapped about his body and jerked him forward. The last thing he saw was the princess hiding her face against Charming's shoulder as she wept for what had been done. He knew it had to go against Snow's innate goodness to see any manner of being so unjustly persecuted.

          David sighed as he stroked Snow's ebony tresses away from her face. Blue bowed to them both, the gesture somewhat awkward as she hovered midair before them. "It was necessary, your majesties."

          "Is there no way for him to ever be freed?" Snow asked as she dried her tears on the snowy white handkerchief Charming offered her.

          Blue's tinkling laughter filled the room as Grumpy and Sleepy stepped forward to carry the painting away to an obscure room of the castle where no one would have to look upon it. "No, highness," she chuckled, the sound rich with a hint of darkness she normally hid from the world. "Only true love could break this enchantment … and who could ever love a beast such as the Dark One?"

          Snow clasped her hands over her belly as her daughter kicked against her palm. "May the gods forgive us, because he surely won't."

 

*.*.*

 

**Twenty-eight years later …**

 

          Regina's ruby painted lips curled into a sickly-sweet smile as she watched the little librarian's face fall into a mask of despair. "You've been asking for funding for years, Miss French. I'm simply acceding to your request."

          Belle gaped at her. "By selling off all of the library's artwork? These pieces are aesthetically pleasing to our patrons. You can't take that away from them!"

          "The proceeds from the sale will bring in the funds to buy better books for the library as well as new computers for your tutoring program. I would think resource materials would be more beneficial to our patrons than these moldy old paintings you're so fond of," Regina tried to reason with her.

          The librarian's shoulders slumped dejectedly. Of course, it would only benefit the library if they had better resource materials, and who was she to argue with that when she'd been after the mayor for years to put more of the budget towards the public library? But those paintings were as much a part of the old building as Belle was herself. Sometimes, she wondered if her talents were being wasted.

          After high school, Belle had gone to Storybrooke's small university and studied hard to achieve her degree in library science, as well as another in English literature. If anything, she was overqualified for the position of librarian in the little Podunk town, but she couldn't bring herself to leave. When her father had passed ten years ago, he'd left her an impressive stock portfolio and a savings account she hadn't even known about until his lawyer had read the will. She didn't need to work unless she wanted to, but she enjoyed putting her skills to use. And the tutoring she offered in the afternoons only enriched her life. She couldn't just give it up. Her students needed her, and it had been so long since she'd felt truly needed.

          Her heart flipped as the workmen reached up to remove the gilt framed painting from the wall in the fantasy section. No! It was her favorite! She'd spent hours over the years staring at that painting, taking comfort in the whimsical smile of the imp framed therein. It had brought her comfort when her father was dying, and she'd sought the solace of the library. She couldn't bear to part with it. It was  _hers_ _!_ "Then allow me to purchase one for myself. There should be no harm in that, surely."

          The mayor cast her a condescending smile. "Miss French, that painting alone has been appraised at twenty thousand dollars. It will no doubt fetch twice that when it goes to auction," she said, flicking her wrist in the painting's direction. Oh, what she wouldn't give to set fire to it instead. There was something about that painting which caused the fine hairs on her neck to stand on end whenever she looked at it. She could still hear the impish giggle which used to send chills up her spine, still hear his voice – low and dark – in the twilight of another life. _Will it, Regina! … Embrace the darkness, dearie. It likes how you taste …You cannot show weakness to your enemies. Or was mommy right about you all along …_

          It didn't matter that her mentor was trapped for an eternity in the painting. There was still a part of her – deep down and hidden even from her – which still feared his power. She had cast his curse to bring them to this land and he wasn't even able to reap the benefits. It must be more than a little frustrating for him, she thought, if he were aware of what went on in the outside world.

          She focused her attention on Rumpelstiltskin's true love once more, her brows rising incredulously as the girl moved to block the workmen from boxing it away in the crate with the others. "Miss French –"

          "Please, Madam Mayor," Belle cried, cringing at the note of pleading in her voice. "I have the little nest egg my father left me, and I haven't touched the money from the sale of his flower shop. Allow me to purchase it outright."

          Regina glared at the portrait, now leaning innocently against a bookshelf. The imp's eyes seemed to be staring directly into her soul, his gaze narrowed and menacing. Her heart raced with fear … and then she blinked and realized she had only imagined it. He had no power over her here, after all. What harm would there be to let the little librarian buy the painting? It was just a  _painting_ , she told herself. The funds would go into the budget for the library along with the others she planned to auction off and the city council would be pleased to see the town's meager finances poured into other areas. It was a win-win situation.

          Belle stood before the painting like a warrior princess, determined to fight off a rampaging horde to protect what was hers. Regina sighed in irritation and squared her shoulders. "Very well, Miss French. I'll expect the money for the painting no later than Friday," the mayor told her grudgingly.

          The librarian huffed out a relieved breath as the cold-eyed woman beckoned to the workmen to finish up with the remainder of the artwork and left without another word.

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin stared out in wonder at his precious Belle through the murky oils and canvas which comprised his prison, his amber eyes dark with a tumult of emotion. Twenty-eight years, one month, two weeks, five days, seventeen hours … he glanced up at the mantle over the hearth … and thirty-seven minutes. The duration of the curse thus far, he mused. The length of time he'd been aware his beloved hadn't perished by the hands of the clerics or her father's betrayal. The same amount of time he'd spent over nearly three decades trying to gain her notice. Gods, how he loved her still … more than he'd ever thought possible … more than he had when she'd opened her heart to him and let him inside that fateful day at his spinning wheel.

          He'd finally discovered the queen's treachery, and he wanted to kick himself for believing her and her lies. His Belle was alive, and he was blessed enough to be able to see her every day while he awaited the breaking of the Dark Curse. The fairies had been so convinced they'd be able to trap him forever, but they hadn't counted on his own resourcefulness, his own tenacity to find his son in this land without magic. Well, he thought bitterly, a land with limited magic. His portrait had survived well, after all, along with the innate power which coursed through his veins. There were no limits to his magic within the bonds of his prison. They hadn't been able to steal it from him, though what good it would do him, trapped as he was, he didn't know.

          For years now, he'd been able to watch over his little dearie from the confines of the painting. Sometimes, he wished he could remain still and suffer in silence, but his need for her only grew. What he wouldn't give to be able to touch her, to hold her, to tell her how sorry he was for rejecting her love and sending her away. He'd been a fool. Instead, he did everything he could to draw her attention. To anyone else viewing the painting, it was always the same … his still and silent form standing before his spinning wheel, staring into the distance, despair enshrouding his weathered green gold face. But not for his beloved.

          Belle was his true love, the keeper of his heart – withered husk that it was – and only she had the power within her to see him for what he truly was. She'd always been able to see him. Most times she doubted her sanity when his image changed. Sometimes, he would sit at the wheel and appear to be spinning, his mouth twisted with thoughtful contemplation. Other times, she would see him cradling their cup as he sipped carefully at his tea. And rarely, she would see him at the window looking out in somber reflection as he wished and hoped and dreamed for an impossible future.

          Not a day passed where she wouldn't come down the old staircase from her apartment above the library and greet him warmly, her eyes caressing his image, her lips curved into a beatific smile just for him. "Good morning, Rumpel. I trust you're well." He shivered. Her voice never failed to bring him joy, his body surging to life as she spoke to him. Without her, he would have surely lost the last remnants of his sanity long ago.

          He had the hatter to thank for her use of his ancient name. Jefferson was one of the few people he knew from the past who he could call a friend. It had been a shock to the man to come into the library and see the imp's portrait hanging on the wall. It had been a bigger shock for the Dark One to hear the recognition in the hatter's voice.

_Jefferson stared wide-eyed and tongue-tied, gaping like a fish before he disappeared towards the front of the library and brought Belle back with him, dragging her by the hand. "What is that painting of Rumpelstiltskin doing hanging here?" he asked._

_"Rumpelstiltskin? As in the fairy tale?" Belle had queried, utterly confused. "I don't think he looks like that ferocious little imp," she said defensively, crossing her arms stubbornly over her chest._

_The hatter let out a hysterical little giggle and rubbed at his throat hidden behind a silky black cravat. "Belle, it's him. I'm telling you –" His voice trailed off as she arched a quizzical brow at him. "And you don't remember anything about him," he whined with obvious disappointment._

_"Of course, I remember the story, Jefferson."_

_"But not the man." The hatter sighed forlornly, and Rumpelstiltskin felt the man's frustration as if it were his own._

          Yet from that day on, Belle had taken to calling him by his true name – or some variation of it – each day when she greeted him.

          Now, the queen was trying to take him away from his Belle. He couldn't allow that to happen, yet he was powerless to prevent it. His stomach churned with dread and with a violent burst of magic, he allowed her to see – for just a moment – the loathing in his eyes. His dread quickly morphed into relief, however, when Regina agreed to allow Belle to buy the painting. He would belong solely to her … forever, and no one would be able to separate them ever again.

          He shivered as Belle reached out and brushed the tip of her fingertip over his cheek, reveling in the small touch. "Don't worry, Rum. I won't let her take you from me," she vowed with a sad smile. "I'll protect you."

 

*.*.*

 

          Mary Margaret hugged herself and fought off a feeling of unease as she stood beside Belle and watched Leroy and Jefferson Madden tilt the portrait they were hanging on the wall in Belle's bedroom. "I still don't understand why you'd want that thing in here," she said, wrinkling her nose.

          "Because she likes to look at him?" Jefferson snarked with a bright smile, showing nearly every one of his teeth.

          "Too strange for my taste, sister," Leroy grumbled as Belle instructed him to move it more to the left.

          "I'm just glad I don't have to look at it every time I bring my class in to choose new reading material," the school teacher replied with a shudder. "It just creeps me out."

          Belle's spine stiffened in affront at her friend's negativity. "Well, I adore this painting. I couldn't allow the mayor to auction him off. Knowing her, it would have probably ended up as kindling beneath her cauldron."

          Mary Margaret giggled. "You just don't like the mayor."

          Jefferson raised a brow in her direction. " _No one_  likes the mayor."

          Belle shrugged noncommittally as she nodded to the two men, finally happy with the placement of the portrait. No longer would she have to wait to see him in the mornings or leave him when she closed the library at night. Now, from where the painting hung on the wall at the foot of her bed, he would be the first thing she saw when she woke and the last thing she saw as she closed her eyes to sleep. She wouldn't have to worry about being overheard by visitors to the library as she carried on one-sided conversations with her 'friend'.

          She ushered her friends back into the living room and offered them her hospitality when what she really wanted was to be alone. "I'm sure Regina has her good points," she said, pouring a liberal amount of wine into four glasses.

          "Well, she's yet to show any if they do actually exist," Jefferson huffed, downing half the contents of his glass in one long swallow.

          "Did you really pay twenty thousand dollars for that painting, though?" Leroy asked, shaking his head.

          Belle stared down into her glass as if the dark red liquid held all the answers. "That painting means a lot to me, Leroy. I don't know why … " She sighed. "I just know I couldn't bear to part with it."

          She should have been warned by the spark of mischief she glimpsed in Jefferson's light grey eyes. "Perhaps the imp is your true love from a previous life and deep down you just want to kiss him, break his curse and have him fall off the canvas at your feet professing his undying love."

          Mary Margaret nearly choked on her mouthful of wine. "Jeff! You're going to give her nightmares! He's more like to devour her whole."

          "And this would be a bad thing?" the hatter teased, waggling his brows in a suggestive manner.

          "Yeahhhh," Leroy drawled, scowling blackly at the man. "And that's my cue to leave. Ugh!" He picked up the envelope from Belle's coffee table containing his small fee for services rendered, and tucked it away in the pocket of his jeans.

          "Thank you, Leroy, for helping to hang the painting. I do appreciate it," Belle said sincerely as she rose from the stool where she sat at the bar separating the room from her kitchen and saw him to the door.

          He nodded and took his leave.

          "That's me too, Belle. I promised I'd have dinner with Emma tonight," Mary Margaret told her, reaching for her cardigan and slipping into it. "Did you hear about Graham offering her the deputy job?"

          "I'll bet Regina was thrilled over that, yeah?" Belle asked as she hugged her friend.

          "Emma said she was just over the moon about it," Mary Margaret replied, joining in the laughter with her friends. "But there's not much she can do about it. It's Graham's decision as to who he hires."

          Jefferson swirled his wine about in his glass. "Oh, you can bet she'll make her displeasure felt by one and all," he grumbled.

          "I'll see you tomorrow after school? You did promise to help me with tutoring."

          "I'll definitely be there, Belle. Have a good night, and …" Mary Margaret's emerald eyes glittered with a mix of mischief and trepidation for Belle's taste in art. "… enjoy your painting."

          Belle refilled both of their glasses before plopping back on the sofa next to Jefferson, taking comfort in his warm embrace as he slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She sighed as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Why does everything have to be so hard, Jeff? Emma seems like a nice person, but you know Regina is going to make her life a living hell for the simple reason she's Henry's birth mother. She doesn't deserve that."

          He grinned down at her, tapping the end of her nose with one long finger. "Don't count Miss Swan out just yet, m'dear. I have a feeling she may surprise you."

          Her eyes narrowed on him suspiciously. "Alright, spill, Madden. What do you know?" she asked. He always had the best gossip. She had a feeling it had more to do with his trusty telescope rather than people willing to confide in him.

          Jefferson sighed. "I don't know anything, really," he hedged. "I just think things in this quiet little town will be changing soon. Don't you get that feeling?"

          Belle frowned. "When does  _anything_  ever change in Storybrooke?"

          "When you least expect it."

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle upended the last of the wine into her glass and brought it into the bedroom with her, setting it down on her nightstand as she glanced over her shoulder at the painting. A rosy blush tinged her cheeks as she took note of the wide amber eyes which seemed to be trained on her arse. She stared down at the lacy black sleeping shorts and her favorite royal blue tank top with the phrase 'so many books, so little time' printed across her chest. It had been a Christmas gift from Jefferson and her most comfortable shirt to use as sleeping attire. She hadn't thought twice about donning it after her shower. She was being silly anyway, she mentally scolded herself. It wasn't as if her Rumpel were really staring at her scantily clad form. She was simply imagining things again.

          She'd been doing that all too frequently of late. She found it easy to blame her recent dreams on Jefferson's stories, but it wasn't so easy to pass off her hallucinations on them. The man could weave a story like nobody's business, but what she imagined she saw in the painting had to run a little deeper. There was no history of mental illness in her family, so that was out as a plausible explanation. Maybe she should make an appointment with Archie. But even if she could have him explain away her imaginings – without locking her in a padded cell – she doubted he could theorize or psychoanalyze her deep feelings for the man in the painting.

          Belle groaned in frustration and picked up her glass, tossing back the sweet red alcohol as she stared into those wide amber eyes. Of course, now they were heavily lidded and thankfully, not fixed upon her rear. "You're definitely losing it, Belle French …" She set the now empty glass back on the nightstand. "… and the wine isn't helping."

          She turned her back on the painting and disappeared into the bathroom to finish drying her long thick hair, hoping a few moments away from the object of her desire would calm her enough to sleep. Leave it to her to fall in love with an inanimate object, no matter how perfect it seemed. The man in the painting couldn't hurt her if he wasn't real, she reasoned with herself. He was no more than one of the heroes in the novels she favored, but she wasn't one to put herself in the place of the heroine. She preferred to read about someone else's love, never having experienced it for herself. It wasn't as if she had  _no_  life experience. She'd dated a few times in high school and had found out what a picnic that was.  She'd even gone out on a few blind dates her friends had set her up on in college. It had all been a waste of time.

          Belle wanted true love … or at least someone who could see past the end of his nose to appreciate her for her mind as well as her beauty. She wanted her Rumpel. There was something about him which called to her soul and she knew as long as she felt this connection, this unbreakable bond, she'd never be happy with anyone. She giggled as she stepped out of the bathroom, her footsteps a bit staggered as she made her way to the foot of the bed and locked eyes with her imp. Perhaps she'd had one glass too many. Once again, he wasn't where she'd last seen him.

          "Are you being naughty, my darling?" she mused aloud, neither expecting nor receiving an answer as she moved closer to the painting. "No?" She rested her brow against the canvas and peered at him from the corner of her eye. "I'm so pathetic. Thankfully, you're not really alive and can't judge me for being a silly girl."

          She reared back in surprise, her eyes widening in alarm as she took in every minute detail of the painting, every delicate swirl of oils on the canvas. He was still in the same position as earlier, his long-fingered grasp still about the chipped teacup. She closed her eyes and shook herself, trying to regain a measure of reality in her muddled mind. She cracked one eye open and peered again at the window behind him, the frost covered pane mocking her. Written in the fog – as if smeared out with a hasty finger – was one word …  _Belle_. It wasn't possible. She'd surely slipped off around the bend. She really was certifiable!

          Belle stumbled back, a tiny whimper slipping past her parted lips.

_Perhaps the imp is your true love from a previous life and deep down you just want to kiss him, break his curse and have him fall off the canvas at your feet professing his undying love_

          Jefferson's teasing statement from earlier that evening ratcheted through her head with the force of a speeding train, leaving her helpless in the chaos and no chance of escape. She reached out a shaking hand and traced the letters of her name with her finger. Nope, not hallucinating. She went to the nightstand and picked up her iPhone, tapping on the symbol for her camera and moving in to take a picture. She held it to her chest, biting her lip nervously. If her name showed up in the picture of the painting, she couldn't possibly be imagining things. What would she do then, she wondered. Panic was slowly rising at an alarming rate in her chest. If it wasn't there, however, she would definitely be making that appointment with Dr. Hopper.

 

*.*.*

 

          His chest hurt with the need to breathe as she fiddled with that infernal device she always had near to hand. He knew it was some type of this land's magic, but he didn't have to like it. It was famous for interrupting her when she was in the middle of telling him an interesting story about her day, or about something she'd read, or even garnering her attention when she was simply gazing at him. No, he didn't like it one bit. And just now he couldn't figure out what that flash had been or why she was staring so intently at the little screen.

          Rumpelstiltskin's hand reached out, his fingertips brushing against the magical barrier separating him from his Belle. He wanted nothing more than to brush her tears away and pull her into the warm cradle of his arms. Anything to make her smile again … anything to erase the fear in her lovely eyes. "Belle, please, my love … please don't cry," he whispered, despite the fact no one could hear him. Gods, this was the purest form of torture. Never had he wanted to make anyone suffer as much as that blasted jellyfish. Maybe Regina, he amended. He shook his head. No, that fairy topped the list.

          He sucked in a sharp breath as she tossed her little magic box on the bed and dried her eyes before stepping closer to his painting. What was she doing? Was she going to touch him again as she had before? To have her that close and not be able to break through the barrier to wrap his arms around her would probably kill him. When she'd pressed her brow so close to him moments ago, he'd been certain his heart had stopped.

          "Belle …" he murmured in warning as her fingertips ghosted over his hair and along the stubborn angle of his jaw. He leaned into the barrier, his palms placed flat against it as she leaned in from the other side. He wanted to feel more of her … as much as she would give him. He closed his eyes as one smooth fingertip traced along his collarbone and he couldn't suppress the white-hot pleasure which coursed through his body. "Belle … Belle, I love you …"

          His eyes flew open as his head swam dizzily, the barrier rippling before him as he felt himself fall.


	2. Chapter 2

          "This is crazy … This is crazy … I'm crazy!" Belle lamented aloud, trying to drum some sense into herself. "What sane person even contemplates kissing a painting? I swear, Jefferson, if this hare-brained idea of yours is totally bogus I'm going to choke you with your own cravat!" she hissed into the phone.

          She heard him splutter and Ruby scold him for getting Oreos all over the counter. "Wait! What idea?"

          "Were you not over here a mere hour ago telling me I should kiss Rumpelstiltskin … er … the painting … UGH! Put the damn milkshake down, Jefferson, and pay attention! How much Amaretto did Ruby put in that thing?"

          "You're really going to do it?!" he squawked, and she had to yank the phone away from her ear. "How much wine did you have after I left? Nevermind, I'm on my way."

          "No, you're not! There is no way I'm going to let you bear witness to my moment of insanity," she protested.

          "Will you at least call me to let me know what happens?"

          "Goodbye, Jeff!"

          "But, Belle!"

          She tossed her phone on the bed and raked a hand through her long, unbound hair, huffing out an irritated sigh. She shouldn't have called him in the first place, but she was freaking out about seeing her name in the picture she'd taken of the painting and really needed the sound of his voice to ground her. Now, her stomach was tied in knots because she was planning to do something completely insane and there was a small part of her which actually wanted it to work.

          Belle focused her gaze intently on the imp's eyes as she closed the distance between herself and the painting, trying to imagine what it would be like to really kiss her Rumpel. Her fingertips ghosted over the smooth waves of his hair and she couldn't help but wonder if it was as soft as it looked. The artist had captured the minutest detail and her gaze didn't miss a single one as she moved over the smooth line of his jaw, wishing she could cup his cheek in her hand and pull him closer, to brush her thumb over his thin lips and have them part expectantly in anticipation of her kiss. Her hand moved lower, her palm pressing over his chest where his heart would be, her middle finger skating softly over his collarbone, and she couldn't help but long for him to touch her in return.

          "Yeah, Belle," she mumbled under her breath as she pressed her brow to the portrait and took a deep breath to steady herself. "You're just a stupid girl to fall in love with a fictional man in a painting rather than someone real and alive who can love you in return. Something is just so, _so_ wrong about that."

          Belle sighed, unable to find it in herself to care any longer. Her head spun from too much wine, her muscles were relaxed from her shower and she didn't have the will to fight her desire to see if Jefferson was just spinning another story. Her hesitation gone, she leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to the canvas over his, holding her stance for several heartbeats before leaning away. When nothing happened, her shoulders slumped, and she breathed out a long sigh through her nose. She wasn't even going to address the stinging of unshed tears behind her eyes. "Well that was disappointing," she murmured with a sniff.

          Before she could turn away to seek the warm comfort of her bed and put her disastrous evening behind her, the surface of the painting rippled. Her hand flew up, covering her mouth to stifle a scream as she backed away. Her heart slammed into her ribs and threatened to stop as the ripple of color seemed to form a pool. It swirled and shifted, forming a vortex, spinning faster and faster. She shielded her face from the biting wind and dropped to her knees, peering between her fingers as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

          Electricity fritzed, lights flickered, deafening silence, then … a loud thump and she sprawled sideways as she ended up with a lapful of disheveled sorcerer. Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as her hand hesitated above him, almost frightened to touch him. The strange hide vest and arm bracers which he wore like armor were smoking slightly and she waved it away, trying to get a better look at him. He was dressed differently than he was in the painting. Gone was his soft brocade waistcoat with its high collar, and the silk shirt he wore wasn't the gold she was used to, but a rich crimson. The tight leather encasing his hips and strong thighs was the same, however, which disappeared into tall leather boots.

          His entire body shook with violent tremors as he pressed his face more firmly against her belly, his arms locked around her back as if he were afraid he'd be ripped away from her by some unknown force. He moaned softly as she brushed the hair away from his brow.

          She jerked her hand back, still wary of him. It wasn't every day a green gold imp just popped out of a painting to take a nap in her lap, she thought, fighting back a hysterical giggle. She pushed against his shoulder to put some distance between them, but his grip on her refused to loosen.

          "Um … Rumpel? Rumpelstiltskin?" she breathed, her voice sounding loud in the lengthening silence of her bedroom. "Rumpel?"

          "Belle …" he murmured, his long lashes fluttering as he finally opened his eyes with a groan. She made a sound between a squeak and a moan as his nose trailed along the length of her torso, pausing briefly in the valley between her breasts before settling into the crook of her neck where it met her shoulder, breathing her in. Was this supposed to be turning her on? she wondered silently, biting her lip to quell her rioting emotions.

          She patted his hide-covered arm gently. "You can … ah … let me go now."

          "No."

          "No?"

          "Never again. I let you go once … I won't be making that mistake again anytime soon," he said in a breathy whisper, his lips trailing along the smooth column of her throat in a fiery path to the shell of her ear.

          Belle whimpered pitifully and clung to his shoulders as heat unfurled low in her belly. Dear gods, the man … er, imp … had skills! But no matter how much she wanted to give in and explore these newfound feelings he was awakening in her, she just couldn't. Her sanity demanded to know what the hell had just happened. "Rumpel?" she asked, using the nickname she'd given him long ago for want of anything better to call him. "You'll forgive me if I need to know … who are you, and how did you … uh … come to be here?"

          "You know who I am, dearest," he practically purred as he pressed his brow to hers and nuzzled softly against her nose. "You've just forgotten." His lips worried at the corner of her mouth as he fought down his rampaging desire. He delved his right hand into her hair, the silken strands curling over his fingers as his thumb brushed lovingly over her cheekbone in a gentle caress. "Let me help you remember, Belle. Know me!"

          Nothing was as powerful as true love's magic – even in a land purported to have  _no_  magic – and he forced himself to remember that as his lips slanted over hers and his hands splayed out over her back to press her closer to him. He was confident of her love for him. Without it, she never would have been able to break the curse on the painting which had held him trapped. It still boggled his mind that she could have fallen in love with only his image on the canvas, but then again, it was no less confusing that she'd loved him in the Enchanted Forest.

          She'd given her heart to him in two realms and he would do anything and everything within his power to free her mind and have her return to him. He needed her to remember him … to remember what they meant to each other. His heart swelled at the first sweet taste of her as he captured her upper lip between his. It was so reminiscent of their first kiss – only without the subsequent violent tantrum and screaming – he wanted to hold her close and never let her go.

          The breath caught in her chest at the first touch of his lips, real human flesh instead of the rough brush of canvas, which molded so perfectly to hers. She wanted so badly to lose herself in the moment, but her head began to throb, image upon image of swirling vibrant color.  _Violent marauding beasts – ogres, her mind quickly provided – a crumbling keep … a big bear of a man – her father! Betrothed to Gaston … her deal … The Dark One … spinning wheel … tea … True Love's Kiss …_ Tears spilled over her lashes as she inched her way onto his lap and thrust her hands into his hair, her grip almost painful in her fear he'd try to pull away from her. "Rumpel …" she sobbed into his mouth as he opened beneath her demanding lips, tentatively seeking out his tongue with her own.

          The sorcerer's head fell back as a wave of dizziness fogged his mind. "Belle …" He looked down at his hands and sighed as the green gold hue receded slowly from his skin. He could already feel his curse being suppressed, the lack of magic in this new land unable to support his power. He dropped back against the plush rug, panting slightly as she came to hover over him. "Belle … tell me, dearest …"

          "Tell you what?" she asked, smoothing the hair away from his brow with a gentle hand. "What's happening to you?"

          "Are you  _you you_  or cursed you?" He grabbed for her hands, bringing them to his lips to kiss her fingertips.

          Belle shook her head, casting him a bewildered look. "I suppose I'm me me, Rumpelstiltskin," she chuckled.

          "You remember me? Our deal? When I –"

          "When you sent me away? Yes, I remember." She traced her fingers over his smooth cheek in awe. "Did we just break your curse?"

          "No … I know how badly you wanted to when …"

          She ducked her head, but not before he could see the brief flash of pain cross her features.

          "Belle, I need my power to find my son. He's here. It's why the queen brought us here … though she's not aware of that little fact," he explained. "The lack of magic here is simply suppressing my curse until I can return magic to this land." He couldn't help but notice her forlorn expression as she continued to touch his 'ordinary' skin. "Are you disappointed, dearest?"

          She drew her gaze back up to his, marveling over the worry in his deep brown eyes. "Of course not. You're lovely," she murmured, leaning over to press a light kiss to his lips. He snorted and pushed himself up on his elbows. "Although, I do miss the curls," she teased, toying with a lock of his hair.

          Belle rose to her feet and offered him a hand, distressed when his right leg refused to support his weight. "Nothing to worry about; just an old injury."

          "Are you sure?" she asked, looping his arm around her shoulders to support him as she led him into the kitchen. She helped lower him into one of the mismatched chairs at her dining table and moved to the stove to fetch the kettle. "I need to call Jefferson. He might be able to help find you some things you're going to need." Understanding dawned on her face, accompanied by an angry flush. "He knew! The hatter knew!" She turned her accusatory gaze on her true love. "How did he know, Rum?"

          "Well …"

          A knock at the door interrupted what she was sure would have been an illuminating explanation. It could only be one person. She marched past Rumpelstiltskin to the door which led to the outside stairs instead of the one in the living room which led to the stairwell which descended into the library. His eyes were wide, his brows raised as high as they would go, and his arms were laden with bags as he peered past her shoulder to the interior of her kitchen. His charismatic grin widened considerably as his light grey eyes came to rest on his friend.

          "You did it!" he cried happily, pushing past her to deposit his burden on the table.

          "Fiend!" Belle hissed, swatting him with a dish towel as she made her way over to the whistling kettle and poured the water over the leaves in the china pot. "You could have told me years ago!"

He dropped into a chair on the opposite side of the table and crossed his long legs at the ankle. "Pfft. As if you would've believed me," he scoffed. He grinned cheekily at the mage. "Good to have you back, by the way."

          Rumpelstiltskin snorted as he took the cup of tea from Belle. "If it weren't for Belle, I would've had to wait for the curse to break. How's that progressing?"

          "Not well. The savior is here, but that boy of hers is having hell trying to get her to believe."

          "Henry knows?" Belle asked as she began rummaging through the bags he'd brought. She smiled in delight as she found one bag from Granny's, the delicious smell of hamburgers and salted, greasy fries wafting up to tickle her nose.

          "Thought Rum would be hungry," he shrugged as Belle set the to-go box down in front of Rumpelstiltskin. "And yes, Henry knows. Ever since Mary Margaret gave him that book of fairy tales. You know what a smart kid he is. Didn't take him long to figure it out."

          "What is this?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, poking at his food with a long finger.

"It's a burger, sweetheart. Pick it up in both hands and take a bite," Belle instructed patiently. She pulled the ketchup bottle from the little rack in the center of the table and squirted some in the lid of his box for his fries. She demonstrated how he was supposed to use it when he wrinkled his nose. "It's really good, Rum. Just try it."

          "So, how did you find out about the painting? How do you even have your memories?" Belle asked incredulously, biting into her own burger.

          The hatter sat back and sipped at the tea Belle had prepared for him, a wry smile upon his lips. "The curse is all about taking away our happy endings, my darling girl. Grace was taken from me and I was left with the knowledge that I'd failed her as a father. Oh … here, you're going to need this," he said, sliding a manila envelope across the table towards the pair.

          "What is it?" the mage asked warily around a mouthful of French fry.

          Jefferson laughed, a hint of madness in the gesture. "Funny you should ask," he chortled. "For some strange reason, Regina enjoys having me as her confidante. She told me about the deal you made with her before she cast the curse."

          "She must be worried now that little Emma is all grown up and has the power to destroy all her hard work," Rumpelstiltskin said, pushing his empty box aside and opening the envelope.

          "Regina is definitely not happy about Emma's presence in Storybrooke, but we have one thing going for us … she doesn't know Emma is the savior."

          Rumpelstiltskin nodded as he began to sift through the sheaf of papers and myriad other items which spilled out onto the table. "We'll have to offer her our assistance," he remarked idly.

          Belle picked up the leather wallet and rifled through the credit cards, bank card, cash, identification, and cast her wide-eyed gaze at her friend. "Mr. Gold? What is this?"

          "Deeds, contracts, securities and bond receipts," the Dark One murmured. He turned to Belle with a dark grin. "Before I was imprisoned in the painting, I made a deal with Regina. I wanted comfort in this new land. In exchange, I gave her the last clue she needed to cast the curse."

          His grin widened. "And this appears to be what she had in mind for me. So, I'm what, hatter? A landlord?"

          Jefferson toyed with his teaspoon as Belle poured him another cup and rose to search the cupboard for some cookies. His gaze caressed Belle's lace covered backside.

          "Stop ogling my Belle, you cretin!" Rumpelstiltskin growled, reaching over to smack the hatter across the back of his head.

          "Rumpel," Belle warned.

          Jefferson grinned. "Really, Rum, she's not inappropriate. Wait until I introduce you to a lovely little invention called … the internet."

          "I can well imagine."

          The hatter crossed his arms over his chest and got back to business. "Anyway, Regina wrote it all into the curse for you. Unfortunately, you weren't here to take advantage." He screwed up his face in a skeptical look. "Well, you were, but you weren't, in a manner of speaking. Anyway, she gave me the task of keeping up appearances for the elusive Mr. Gold. This is a record of all your finances and holdings. Dove runs the shop and sees to your properties and rental agreements. You’re quite the recluse."

          "The shop? As in the pawnshop across the street?" Belle asked, brows raised.

          "The same. I bet Regina never really thought you'd be freed from the painting, though. I think she'd be downright fearful of your wrath once you found out our girl here was alive."

          Rumpelstiltskin's lip curled into a sneer at the mention of the 'our' as the hatter referenced Belle, but she laid a restraining hand on his arm. "We can deal with the queen later. I'd rather know how you became trapped in the painting."

          "What's in the other bags?" he asked, avoiding his love's question.

          "Clothes. I got jeans, a couple of button ups, socks, underwear, shoes, sleeping attire and some toiletries. You can't very well go around wearing clothes from our realm. These should do you until you can get more," the hatter said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I began gathering what I could once Belle started getting all moony-eyed over your painting."

          Belle blushed scarlet. "Rumpel, you're avoiding. Now tell us how you became trapped  _or_  you can sleep on the sofa," she said sweetly.

          Rumpelstiltskin leaned over and nuzzled against her ear. "And where will I be sleeping if I  _do_  tell?"

          Jefferson burst out laughing and pushed himself to his feet. "On that note, I think I'll take my leave."

          "Jeff, thank you so much. Oh, Rum's going to need a cane."

          "Not to worry, darling, I'll have Dove drop one by in the morning."

          "Grace … I mean Paige … is helping with tutoring tomorrow at four thirty. I'll expect you to be there to help as well."

          He nodded solemnly, touched she would care enough to allow him to spend time with his daughter in an environment where he wouldn't come off as a creeper. "Thanks, Belle." He kissed her on the cheek much to the imp's obvious displeasure and slipped out the door.

          Belle locked up behind him and leaned back against the door. She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a meaningful look. "I'm waiting."

          "I'm a bit tired."

          "Rumpelstiltskin!"

          He scrubbed both hands over his face and sat back in his chair with a groan. "Damnit, Belle. Do you think it's easy for me to admit my failures?!"

          Belle moved to stand beside him, pulling his head to rest against her meager bosom as she carded her fingers through his hair. "Of course not, Rum, but if you talk about it, it might be easier to put it behind you."

          He pulled her down to sit on his good leg and wrapped his arms about her. "I made a grave error, dearest. I made a deal which would put me in the most advantageous place to await the casting of my curse. What I didn't count on was the Blue Fairy whispering in Charming's ear. It was her idea to imprison me. If it had been solely up to her, I would have been trapped for an eternity."

          Belle seethed quietly, waiting for him to finish. "Snow allowed –"

          "She was against the plan, but she had been outvoted by her council."

          "Bloody fairies!" she hissed. "I wonder if Jefferson knows anything about arson."

          "Why?"

          "Because I want to burn the convent down with her in it!"

          "Belle!" He ran his hands over her upper arms in an attempt to soothe her. "My, what a bloodthirsty little dearie you've become. I accept full blame for corrupting you," he teased.

          Her eyes glittered with outrage. "Fairies are supposed to be light and goodness, Rumpel, yet they didn't see the harm in imprisoning you, dooming you to a life of loneliness. I don't care if you're the Dark One … you're still a good man. You didn't deserve that!"

          "It was no worse than what I suspect Regina did to you. At least I got to see you every day, sweetheart."

          Belle pressed her brow to his, taking comfort in his embrace. She knew he was trying to downplay his captivity, so she wouldn't worry, but it still didn't make her feel any better. "Don't fret, my love. Regina wasn't cruel. She would come in about once a week to question me about you or rage about Snow, but mostly I was left alone. At least I knew you were alive. I'm so sorry you had to mourn me when I wasn't really dead."

          "I know you're alive now, Belle … that's all that matters. You're alive and safe and here with me. We're together," he whispered passionately. "I cursed myself daily for sending you away."

          Her teeth sank sharply into her lower lip as she searched his face, still trying to get used to seeing him looking so normal. "Are we, Rumpel? Are we together now?"

          He sighed, mentally kicking himself for his assumptions. "If you wish it," he said softly, taking her hands in his and brushing his lips over them. "That day in the dungeon … Belle, dearest, I didn't mean it … any of it. I do want you. I-I  _love_  you."

          She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in the crook of his neck, her tears soaking into the silk of his shirt. "I love you, too. But this has to be what you want, Rum. I couldn't bear to lose you again. I need to know you'll put your heart into our future."

          "Belle, you've always had my heart. You took it with you when you left me, and you hold it now in your hands … forever."

          "As you have mine. Please be gentle with it," she whispered against his lips as she pulled him into a lingering kiss.

          "I promise."

 

*.*.*

 

          "You should feel very thankful Jefferson is such a good friend," Belle told him as she laid a pile of clothing on the lavatory in her bathroom, briefly fingering the silk boxers and cotton sleeping pants. "It still amazes me he was prepared for your arrival."

          Rumpelstiltskin huffed as he continued to eye the strange contraption she called a shower. "Jefferson is useful at times."

          "Rumpel, that's no way to –"

          "How does this work?" he asked, running his long fingers over the knobs.

          "Darling, are you …" A small giggle slipped past her lips as she moved past him to set the bottles of shampoo, conditioner and body wash on the side of the tub for his use. "Are you … jealous? Of Jefferson?" she asked incredulously as she turned the knobs and adjusted the temperature before setting the shower.

          His eyes widened appreciatively at the spray coming from the large shower head, but she refused to allow him to be distracted. "What!? Of course not," he protested, pulling on the ties of his vest and scowling darkly as it knotted. There was no way he was going to admit his insecurities where the hatter was concerned. "Should I be, Belle?" he asked as she brushed his hands away and deftly worked the knot loose.

          Her cerulean eyes sparkled with amusement as she moved on to the next one, quite surprised he was letting her undress him. "Rum, Jefferson is my dearest friend, just as he was when you and I lived in the Dark Castle. There is nothing between us other than friendship. And if you'd stop being a lunkhead, you'd see that for yourself." She cursed softly at a particularly stubborn knot before she looked up at him sheepishly. "I love  _you_ , Rumpelstiltskin. I always have. There has never been another in my heart, nor will there be in the future."

          Some of the tension eased out of him at her heartfelt profession. "The queen did us both a favor by allowing him to retain his true memories, didn't she?"

          "Indeed, she did. I must remember to thank her." She turned her back, going to the medicine cabinet to find relief for her headache while at the same time giving him a measure of privacy to discard the remainder of his clothing and step into the shower. "My head is killing me. It's like I have two people living in there and both trying to wrest control away from the other. It's quite annoying."

          "Side effect of the curse," he intoned, raising his voice to be heard over the spray of water pummeling his head. He wished there had been something this wondrous back at the Dark Castle, he thought, biting back a giggle. He would have been the envy of the entire realm. "It's the price for getting your memories back before the breaking of the curse. They will integrate soon enough."

          The sorcerer frowned at her silence. He could vaguely make out her shape through the shower curtain where she'd settled on the closed chamber pot, but her bowed head and closed lips didn't sit well with him. It was never a good sign when she was quiet. He poked his head around the curtain, so he could see her better, tossing his head back to dispel some of the water dripping into his eyes. "Belle? Are you alright?"

          "Yeah," she murmured, brushing at the moisture in her eyes. "I'm just worried, I guess."

          "Would you care to elaborate?" he asked, turning back to his task and frowning at the bottles as he tried to remember which one she'd told him to use first.

          "Well … you know Regina isn't going to be happy you can now walk around Storybrooke a free man, nor will she be thrilled you and I have been reunited –"

          "- and for lack of a better phrase, she can bloody well piss off!"

          "Rumpel," she admonished lightly. "I just don't want her to take her grievances out on either you or Jefferson. You'll have to come to some sort of arrangement with her."

          His lips curled up into a smirk at the prospect of a deal. "Not to worry, dearest, I'll protect who is important to me," he replied, his voice filled with quiet menace. "Now, is it just the queen you're fretting about, or is it something else?"  _And should I be worried as well? Is she having second thoughts … about us?_

          Belle bit her lip, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "I know you don't like me to ask questions – something you're going to have to learn to live with, I'm afraid – but I'm curious … how are we going to find your son?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes, I know TLK shouldn't have worked to restore her memories, however, we are going to blame it on his residual magic before his curse was suppressed. Are you enjoying the story so far? I know for certain we have at least one more chapter :o) Please don't hesitate to let me know. Thanks so very much, you wonderful people, for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains smut!

          Rumpelstiltskin turned the knobs as Belle had showed him and cut the spray, reaching for the towel on the rack to dry his shaggy mane of hair. "It's complicated, Belle," he sighed.

          "Then uncomplicate it, Rum, because if I'm going to help you, I'm going to need to know what I'm dealing with," Belle growled in frustration. She grabbed another towel and passed it to him through the curtain to wrap about his waist. "I've let you boss me around in the past, but no longer. I refuse to let you continue to make decisions about  _my_  life. We're in this together, Rumpelstiltskin … not because of a deal, but because I love you and I choose to be with you."

          "Belle, dearest –"

          "How did your son even wind up in this world?" she asked, whipping back the shower curtain to offer him a hand to step out of the tub. She'd have to see if Leroy would be willing to install a bar in the shower to help Rumpel with his balance.

          His lips compressed into a thin line as he sat heavily on the closed lid of the commode and stared up at her. It was still so hard to talk about it with anyone. He sighed. This was Belle, his true love; if he couldn't tell her, who could he tell? She wouldn't judge him, he knew. His eyes followed her warily as she picked up her comb from a little basket next to the sink and began to run it through his damp hair.

          "I suppose I owe you this story, yes?"

          She dropped a kiss to his crown and nodded. "Indeed, you do."

          "I made a deal with Baelfire not long after I'd become the Dark One," he began, his gaze furtively rising up to meet hers. "He wanted a way to break my curse without any harm coming to me. So, I agreed. I never thought he'd find a way."

          " _You_  broke a deal?" she asked, her brows disappearing somewhere near her hairline. "That's not like you, and with your son, no less."

          "It wasn't my fault, Belle! I panicked!"

          Belle set the comb down and stepped between his knees, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she pulled him into a comforting embrace. "Shh, it's ok. I'm not blaming you, darling, really. I just mean from what I know of you, it's not in your character to break a deal with anyone."

          His wiry arms curled about her waist as he sighed against her breastbone. "He asked the Blue Fairy for help. Of course, that evil little harpy would have done anything to rid the realm of the Dark One. She gave him a magic bean to take us both to a land with no magic, so I wouldn't be tempted to dabble. Coming here couldn't rid me of my curse, only suppress it … much like now. I-I was afraid, Belle. I didn't want to lose my power and revert to the coward I had been before the curse. I needed to protect him, and I couldn't do that if …"

          "You're not a coward, darling," she whispered, clinging tightly to him when he would have pushed her away.

          "I am, Belle. I always have been," he admitted ruefully. "I let him go through the portal without me. I abandoned him. All I want now is to find him and tell him how sorry I am for letting him go."

          She cradled his face in her warm palms, her thumbs brushing soothingly over his cheekbones. "Then that's what we'll do. Shall I assume your wonderful foresight has assured you he's still alive?"

          He nodded, his arms tightening about her. "He's alive, Belle. We just have to wait until the curse is broken to begin looking for him."

          "Good. That should give us time to make preparations." She reached for his clothes and handed them to him. "In the meantime, you can get dressed."

          He didn't miss the rosy blush staining her cheeks as she disappeared into the hall. It was impossible to keep the smile from his face as he pulled on the clothes Jefferson had provided and used the wall to balance himself as he went in search of her. It felt odd to have shared one of his secrets with her, but not in a bad way. His heart felt lighter than it ever had. Her innate willingness to help him shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. It would take time for him to become accustomed to sharing his secrets, his life, with her. He wanted her to be happy … a foreign concept to him, but it was one he would strive to learn.

          "Belle?" he called softly as he made his way down the hall, cursing his ankle the entire way.

          "I'm here," she replied, her voice coming to him from the kitchen. She flicked off the lights and met him halfway, pulling him along with her towards her bedroom. His breath hitched sharply in his chest when he saw where she was leading him. He crossed one arm over his bare chest, feeling rather exposed without his armor.

          He watched her with mild fascination as she pulled back the duvet and soft blue top sheet and crawled onto the mattress, never letting go of his hand. With a gentle tug, he followed her. Fire sparked at his nerve endings and heat unfurled in his belly as his head came to rest on the pillow next to hers. "Belle, sweetheart … I don't expect anything from you. You have to know that," he murmured, his voice thick and rough with emotion. “But I would so like to hold you.”

          "I know, Rumpel," she smiled, scooting closer to him until she was firmly nestled against his side. "You would never disrespect my boundaries." Her hand trailed slowly over his chest to curl over his nape, her fingers kneading gently. "But you should know … I have none where you're concerned. I was coming back to you when Regina captured me. I was going to try to make you see how much I truly love you."

          "Oh, Belle …" he whispered faintly, cradling her cheek in his palm as his eyes stung with unshed tears. " … only you would give your heart to a monster."

          She shook her head. "You're not a monster, Rumpelstiltskin. A beast sometimes, but never a monster. And you're mine," she vowed, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. "All mine … forever. I won't allow you to push me away again."

          "Never. I love you so much, dearest." He rolled her beneath him, delving his long fingers into her hair as he held her still for his kiss. He was gentle, forcing himself to remain calm and in control so as not to frighten her with his carnal urges. His lips glided over hers in a whisper of touch, coaxing a gasp from her as his tongue slid over the seam of her mouth in a soft caress. " _My_  Belle …" She arched beneath him, her nails digging into his lower back as he nipped at her full lower lip. How many times had he watched her worry at that lip and wish it were his own teeth, his own lips scoring her tender flesh?

          He swallowed down her breathy little moan, his heart swelling and filling with her light, her love, her undisguised acceptance of him. His flesh filled and tightened with desire as her tongue dueled with his in a sensual dance. He could have happily remained there in her arms, sharing kisses for the rest of eternity, but she apparently had other ideas as her nails raked over his chest. He bit back a howl of pleasure, his hips pressing firmly against her thigh where she could feel his unmistakable need. "Belle, please. We don't …" He whimpered as she tweaked his right nipple. "W-We don't have to –"

          Her hands balled into tight little fists as she looked up at him, her blush deepening. "Don't you want to?"

          "Of course, I do," he said, once again nibbling at her lips. "I just don't want to do something you're not ready for, Belle. I don't want to take advantage."

          She arched her neck, leaning into his kiss once more. "Rumpel, you don't know how long I've waited for this. Before you ever sent me away, I dreamed of being able to touch you like this. When I was locked in Regina's tower, thoughts of you were the only thing which kept me sane." She smiled lovingly up into his warm sable eyes as she brushed the hair away from his brow. "I love you, Rumpelstiltskin … I _want_ you."

          "Belle," he murmured against her lips, unable to deny her. "Anything, my darling. I'm yours to do with what you will."

          "Show me, Rum. Make love to me," she practically purred as she held his gaze, trying to make him see the need blazing in the depths of her eyes.

          Rumpelstiltskin kissed her deeply, passionately, opening his heart to her as he couldn't have done before. Now after spending so much time as a captive of the painting, having the pleasure, the exquisite torture of seeing her everyday - so near yet so far - he had to seize his chance to give himself to her in all ways. He would always have his secrets, but not from his Belle. He would always have his darkness, but it would be tempered by her light. Together they would find Baelfire and the three of them would be a family. He would make them both happy and hopefully he could find his redemption in their love.

          "Hey … Where did you go?" Belle asked, pushing gently against his shoulder until he obeyed her silent command to lie on his back. "You were a million miles away just now. Are you alright?"

          Rumpelstiltskin gave her a jerky nod as she straddled his waist and placed the softest of kisses over his heart. "I'm fine, dearest … just a bit overwhelmed is all."

          "I can imagine so, darling, but it's ok. You're here with me now." Belle's lips quirked into a soft smile as she let her hands roam freely over his chest, her nails scratching lightly over his ribs as she ventured lower. She could happily explore his body for days if he'd allow it. Her eyes darted to his as the muscles in his stomach clenched beneath her questing fingers. "Feel good?" she asked, repeating her teasing strokes over his warm flesh.

          "Yes," he groaned, trying to remain still under the sweet torture of her ministrations. "So good, my Belle."

          Rumpelstiltskin had been alone for so long, trapped for what seemed like an eternity with only one hope … that his precious love would be the one to free him. It was almost too good to be true she'd want him like this, in her bed. His hands came to rest on her thighs, his fingers teasing along the edges of her lacy pajama shorts, his heavily lidded eyes watching her closely as she wriggled above him. She was so lovely, her long chestnut curls tumbling over her shoulders, her eyes dark with passion and her lips swollen from his kisses. He burned for her, the need to bury himself in her welcoming heat nearly more than he could bear.

          He tempered his strength as his fingers curled over the curves of her hips, kneading gently as he held onto her, his hips thrusting up to press against her core, so she could feel the evidence of his desire. She moaned long and loud as her thighs clenched about his hips, her nails scoring the taught plane of his belly as she lost herself in the fire burning through her. Her cheeks flushed with warmth, her eyes twin jewels of burning need as she lowered her head a pressed kiss after kiss to his smooth skin.

          Two sets of memories warred within her mind, making it difficult to filter out what was real and what was fake. She reveled in the raspy little moans issuing from her love's throat as her lips closed over his flat male nipple and scraped her teeth over the hardening bud. She had one memory of a boy in college … a party … too much alcohol, and a failed attempt at sex, but she doubted it was real. Her lips peppered hot open-mouthed kisses to its twin and he hissed as she sucked deeply. With effort, she blocked out her cursed memories, trusting her body to know what to do to bring him pleasure. She'd read more than her fair share of trashy romance novels, she thought with a wicked grin.

          Without the slightest shame or embarrassment, she sat up and reached for the hem of her top, whipping it over her head and tossing it to the side, baring herself to his gaze. Her belly clenched at the need she saw there in his eyes and her core pulsed with the same ache she knew he felt where her body pressed into his. She stared at him trustingly as she waited to see what he would do. She knew her Rumpel had very little self-control when faced with something he truly wanted, and this was no different.

          "Belle …" It was nothing more than a growl as he sat up with her on his lap and buried his face against the smooth ivory column of her throat. Here was her beast, her true love, her precious mate. She reveled in his gentle hands as they cupped her breasts and squeezed her fevered flesh. She cried out as his mouth brought her to new heights, his teeth nipping and biting, his tongue wet and soothing, his lips suckling her until she thought she would perish from the heat and pleasure spiraling through her body to pool hotly in her core. And she could do nothing but give herself over to him, clinging desperately to him as he mapped a path to her breasts.

          "R-Rumpel!" she wailed, her cries breaking through the silence of the room as his lips closed over her right nipple and drew her deeply into his mouth, sucking fervently. She ground her hips against his, seeking friction, begging relief from the dull throbbing in her center. Her fingers, twined so tightly in his soft hair, tightened and tugged almost painfully as his hand lifted to her other breast and rolled the nipple between his clever fingers. She felt empty, hollow, aching to have him inside her. "Rum … I need … I need  _you_."

          Another growl rumbled fiercely in his chest, but not so far gone as to not hear her pleas. He wrapped one arm about her waist, the other beneath her arse and rose shakily to his knees, flipping her over to lie on her back as he settled between her thighs. His mouth claimed hers once more, his tongue thrusting deeply to explore the honeyed recesses of her mouth. He howled as her sharp little teeth sank into his lower lip, his hips snapping forward of their own accord as pleasure crackled at the base of his spine. He knew he needed to slow down. This was his precious Belle, not some tavern trollop and he would not have their first time together overshadowed with pain and furious fumblings.

          A smug grin split his lips as he noticed the love bite he'd left just above her collarbone. He worried at it again with his tongue, laving over the small bruise until she moaned. He wondered how she'd react tomorrow when she served her library patrons … would she seek to conceal it or display it proudly? His lips moved a bit higher to leave another where her jaw met her neck. She wouldn't be able to hide them all, and he felt no small measure of pride to know she was his and soon everyone else would know, too.

          "Rumpel," she cried in frustration, curling her slender leg over his hip. She used the heel of her foot to draw him in closer, reveling in the pressure his body afforded.

          "Easy, my love. Let me enjoy you … let me give you pleasure," he whispered against the valley between her breasts as he steadily ventured lower. She arched beneath him as his tongue flicked out to dip into her navel. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her shorts as his gaze darted up to hers. "May I, sweetling?"

          She nodded earnestly, her breath coming in discordant pants. He took her shorts and knickers in one fell swoop, sweeping them over her long legs and tossing them aside as he gazed hungrily at her lush curves. Her breath caught as his long fingers stroked up the outside of her calves and higher to settle on her thighs. A giggle tumbled from her lips as he nuzzled the inside of her knee.

          "Ticklish, my Belle?" he crooned, his tongue darting out to lick the spot before he suckled at her flesh.

          "Mhmm …" she moaned as he ventured higher. "And I'm sure you'll use that knowledge to your advantage, but might we do that later?"

          Rumpelstiltskin nipped lightly in reproach where her thigh met her groin. "The last thing I want is for you to laugh at me in bed, dearest," he teased, pressing a kiss to the top of her mound. He relished her gasp as he nuzzled his nose to her curls, breathing in the sweet musky scent of her arousal. She was so gloriously wet, her folds glistening, beckoning him like a starving man to a banquet, and he couldn't resist a taste.

          Her nails dug sharply into his shoulders as he traced the line of her cleft with his tongue. "Oh! Rumpel!" she croaked hoarsely, her hips shooting up off the bed. Nothing she'd ever read had prepared her for this. Even Ruby's deliciously naughty tales of her escapades hadn't come close to the real thing. He pressed a hand to her belly, pushing her gently back to the mattress as he smiled wickedly. She could feel his deft fingers part her folds, his wet tongue sweeping over her slick flesh and his answering moan vibrating around her swollen clit as he captured it between his lips. "Dear gods!"

          He lapped at her, long slow strokes which had her writhing uncontrollably against his face in the most delightful way imaginable. He didn't care about finesse or skill, only the breathy little moans issuing from her throat which had heat surging to his cock and making him ache. She tasted like nectar and felt like silk, everything he'd ever imagined her to be. His crafty tongue circled the tight ring of muscle at her entrance before dipping inside, wanting more, needing  _all_  of her. He pressed his hips roughly against the mattress to alleviate some of the pressure in his groin, but it was useless. He wouldn't find solace until he was buried within her. His tongue returned to her swollen bundle of nerves, swirling, circling, giving her the friction she needed as he dipped a long finger into her welcoming heat. She was tight … so beautifully tight and she clenched around him, her inner walls fluttering as he thrust within her.

          "R-Rum … I need … I  _need_  …" she panted, nearly incoherent with the desire he evoked within her. Her thighs quivered as she rubbed the soles of her feet against his back, her fingers twisting in the bedsheets as the pressure built in her womb. "Please!"

          Rumpelstiltskin winced as she thrust her hands into his hair and tugged sharply, but he wouldn't deny himself the pleasure of having her come on his tongue. He crooked his finger, rubbing against a spot deep inside which had her arching her back and crying out again, her folds clenching and grasping tightly around his finger as she came apart. He withdrew his hand and wrapped his arms beneath her thighs as he sought her entrance, his tongue delving deep to drink her down.

          Belle gasped, tremors rippling through her from top to toe, leaving her a boneless mess beneath him. She was barely aware of him moving over her moments later, blanketing her with his body. "Rum," she murmured weakly.

          His warm palms cradled her face as he nibbled at her lips. "Shh, sweet love,  _my_  love,  _my_  Belle," he purred. "I've got you."

          Heat coursed through her again as his tongue delved past her teeth to duel with hers, that sweet pressure building again in her belly as he pressed his hips to hers. Boldly, she reached between them, her fingers wrapping around his length. She wondered briefly when he had discarded his cotton trousers, but pushed the thought aside in favor of more pleasurable activities which didn't involve thinking at all. His hiss turned into a groan as she squeezed him gently, stroking over his turgid flesh and teasing him.

          "Belle … love, stop. Otherwise it's going to be over all too soon," he moaned, burying his face against the hollow of her throat.

          She arched beneath him, pressing her breasts into his chest, feeling as if she'd never be close enough to her love. She wanted to touch him everywhere, not just his body, but his heart, his soul, as well. "I want you, Rumpelstiltskin," he breathed against the shell of his ear, sending a fresh wave of gooseflesh rippling over his back. "I  _need_ you."

          "Gods, Belle, I love you so much," he whimpered, his hips bucking against her slick core. "I don't know how I ever won your heart, but I'll be eternally grateful." He reached between them and took himself in hand, guiding himself to her entrance, his gaze locked with hers to watch her for any sign she wanted him to stop.

          "Yes," she sighed breathlessly as he slowly pushed in. "More, Rumpel. Please … don't hold back."

          He kissed her deeply, giving a little of himself at a time so she could adjust to him. "Talk to me, Belle. Are you ok? Do I need to stop?"

          Belle took a deep breath and bit her lip to calm herself, reveling in the fullness she felt between her legs. She opened wider for him, pressing her heels to the bed to give her leverage as she pushed up, taking more of him. He held himself stiffly above her, braced on his elbows. She knew he wouldn't move another inch until she'd answered him. "I'm fine, darling," she assured him, reaching up to cradle his cheek in her palm. "Do it … I promise I won't break."

          "I don't want to hurt you," he said in an agonized whisper.

          "Rumpel!"

          Resigned to the inevitable, he broke through the barrier of her maidenhead and fell still, peppering her face with feather light kisses as he apologized over and over again., catching her tears on his lips. "I'm sorry, sweetling … so sorry … I love you."

          "It was worth it," she breathed through the discomfort. And that's all it was now, a brief discomfort. "It was worth it to have you joined to me, Rum. I'm truly yours now." She shifted beneath him, her pain giving way to need.

          He claimed her lips in a tender kiss as he drew back slightly and pushed back in, a low rumble sounding deep in his chest. "Aye, love, forever." He held her gaze as he set a torturously slow pace, every ounce of emotion roiling through his body evident in his gaze for her to see. She'd never had trouble seeing past his mask, but now he wanted to show her he wasn't hiding from her anymore.

          "Faster, Rum!" she bit out, her nails raking over his chest as her hips rose to meet him.

          He wrapped an arm about her waist, lifting her higher, changing the angle and causing her clit to brush against him with every thrust as he acquiesced to her wishes. Cries of  _faster_ ,  _harder_ ,  _more_  filled his ears as her teeth sank into his shoulder, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer, his cock impossibly hard. He didn't know how he'd managed to last as long as he had with his member being clasped so tightly in her silken heat. "Please, Belle … pleasepleaseplease, love," he pleaded. "Let go. Come for me."

          Belle keened long and loud as she broke apart, her walls convulsing around him, milking his own orgasm from his pulsing shaft. His arms tightened almost painfully about her as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. "Mine …  _my_  Belle …  _mine_  …" It took effort for him to remember to roll to his side to relieve her of his weight. He pulled her against his chest and brushed her damp hair away from her brow, pressing a lingering kiss to her temple as he fought to catch his breath. "Love you."

          "I … I love you too," she murmured sleepily, nuzzling into his chest and pressing a kiss over his heart. "Don't let go … don't let it have all been a dream."

          "It's not a dream, my Belle … I promise. I'm here and I'll never let you go. Sleep now," he whispered, his brogue thick as he chased away her fears.

          Rumpelstiltskin stroked his fingers through her hair until her breathing evened out and her body relaxed in sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so sated and content … or so gloriously happy. He looked up at the painting hanging on her wall, the faint light spilling past her curtains illuminating the picture of his wheel, the chipped cup resting idly on the stool next to it. Thankfully, they hadn't disappeared when he'd tumbled out of the canvas and broken the magic. He'd have to retrieve them somehow when the curse was broken.

          For now, he had much to keep him busy in the coming months. He smiled as Belle snuffled softly in her sleep and pressed closer, seeking him out even in her dreams.

          How could he fail with her at his side?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wow! I cannot thank you all enough for your support of this story. I must say I'm loving this prompt so much. Next time, Rum gets his first taste of the modern world and a run in with our favorite mayor lol. I hope to see you all tomorrow :D


	4. Chapter 4

_Tap! Tap! Tap!_

          Belle squinched her eyes tightly against the sunlight streaming through her bedroom windows, vowing today was the day she went shopping for thick black curtains. She groaned at the weight on her chest preventing her from reaching her cell phone on the nightstand, but a soft smile curled her lips as she looked down at the top of her love's tawny head. Memories of the previous evening came rushing back as if someone had opened the floodgates.

          "Whatsat noise?" he slurred sleepily. She could relate, not feeling her best after being up half the night with him. "Make it stop."

          "Someone's at the door, darling," she said, striving for a soothing tone. She hadn't forgotten living with him at the Dark Castle and being witness to his surly moods in the bright light of morning. She drew in a sharp breath as he nuzzled his face between her naked breasts and heat pooled hotly in her belly. "I need to go see who it is."

          Rumpelstiltskin's arms tightened about her waist, and wedged his knee between her thighs, effectively grounding her to the bed. "No, stay here with me. Not done worshipping you yet, dear one." Her warm rich laughter went right to his groin.

          "If you let me up, I shall return with tea," she teased, carding her fingers through his hair as the incessant tapping started up again.

          "You think to bribe me with tea?" he asked, propping himself up on his elbows and scooting up a bit to claim her lips, kissing her tenderly.

          Belle wrapped her arms around his neck as the tapping grew steadily worse. "There's always a deal to be made with you, Rumpel … however, if it's Jefferson, he knows where the spare key is and will not hesitate to come into my bedroom and drag us both out of bed."

          "Let me catch him in your bedroom, Belle," he growled irritably as he rolled onto his side and relieved her of his weight.

          She giggled as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and reached for her robe hanging on a hook attached to her closet door. She leaned over and gave him a swift kiss before bolting for the kitchen, his deep grumbling voice following her down the hall. Her feet were silent on the worn carpeting and she flinched as they came in contact with the cool linoleum in the kitchen, making her wish she'd donned her slippers in her haste. It came as no surprise to find Mr. Dove hovering anxiously on the other side of her door, his collar lifted to keep the chill autumn breeze off his neck.

          "Mr. Dove," she greeted, her warm smile never slipping from her lips. She was entirely too happy with life at the moment to suppress the outward display. "Come in out of the cold."

          "I hate to intrude, Miss French," he said shyly as he stepped over the threshold of her small apartment and into the warmth of her kitchen, "but Mr. Madden asked that I bring this to you before I opened the shop this morning. He mentioned that Mr. Gold would be needing it. Is it true? Has he finally come out of seclusion after all these years?"

          Belle arched a brow, wondering what sort of tales Jefferson had been spreading about Rumpelstiltskin's sudden appearance. "Indeed, he has. Thank you so much for this," she said, taking the ebony cane from his gloved hands.

          "It was my pleasure. I've been running the shop for more years than I can remember and yet I've never spoken to Mr. Gold. Do you know if he's going to want to take a more active role in his businesses?" the man asked, nervously peering over her shoulder as if Gold would suddenly appear.

          Belle's free hand curled into the soft velour of her robe at her throat and shrugged. "I'm not at all certain, Mr. Dove, but I'm sure he will let you know soon. Was there anything else?"

          "No ma'am. Just following orders," he murmured hesitantly, wondering how the sweet librarian had managed to lure the elusive pawnbroker out of his seclusion. "If Mr. Gold should need anything further, just let me know."

          Belle saw him out, locking the door behind him. She filled the kettle with water and set out the items she'd need for tea, glancing up at the clock on the wall next to the window. It was still early, and she wouldn't have to worry about opening the library for several hours. The extra time would be well spent with her love, hopefully without any interruptions. Considering no one knew of his existence aside from Jefferson, she didn't expect any, and Dove wasn't the type of man to spread idle gossip.

          "Belle, dearie! Are you coming back to bed?" came an irritable call from her bedroom. He'd never had much patience, she recalled.

          "In a minute," she replied, her voice easily carrying back to him. Tea tray balanced in her hands, and his new cane hooked over her forearm, she made her way back to where she'd left him. He was propped up on several pillows, his right arm supporting his head and the fingers of his left hand drumming silently against the mattress. "I wasn't gone that long, y'know."

          "Who was at the door?"

          "Your shopkeeper, Mr. Dove." She lifted the cane, so he could inspect it. He scowled at the ebony support with its gold handle, taking it from her and resting it against the bedside table. It was a bitter taste in his mouth he couldn't rely on his magic to ease the pain in his ankle enough to walk without an aid. "Jefferson sent him. He's rather curious about you."

          "I'll meet him soon enough, I'm sure," he mumbled, taking the tea cup from her and sipping tentatively at the steaming brew. He sighed in pleasure. "You do make a fine cup of tea, dearest."

          "I enjoy my tea in the morning, but later I want to introduce you to coffee," she said with a mischievous smile. "It's an acquired taste, but I think you might like it." Her teeth clamped down over her lower lip as she regarded him thoughtfully. "Rumpel, I know the steps Jefferson took to explain your life in this town, but how exactly are we going to explain  _us_? You know the queen is going to be less than thrilled."

          His dark sable eyes narrowed in thought for a moment. "We'll simply tell everyone we've been seeing one another secretly and just recently decided to bring our relationship out into the open. The townspeople and their gossips don't need to know more than that. I'll handle Regina." His lips curled into a wicked grin as he thought of the queen's reaction to his presence in her little cursed world. "And I just can't wait to meet the savior. We need to lead her down the right path and have her break the curse with all haste."

          "That might not be as easy as you might think, darling. She's rather rough around the edges and thinks everything Henry has told her about the curse is delusions brought on by a lonely child," she explained, setting her cup aside on the tray. "I have to admit, I was of the same opinion."

          "Who's Henry?" he asked, his arms snaking about her waist to pull her to rest against his chest.

          Belle tilted her head from side to side, her eyes widening as she thought of a way to explain. "Ten years ago, our illustrious mayor adopted a child – Emma's child to be exact – and just recently he decided to find his birth mother. He has this book, with all our stories in it, and he believes the curse is real. He thinks Emma is the key to breaking it."

          "How astute of him. How did he come to possess this book?"

          "Mary Margaret – Snow White, she's his schoolteacher – she gave it to him."

          He smirked down at her querulous expression. "Fate is a fickle beast, dear one. This was no accident she gave it to him."

          "Rumpel, we make our own fate," she protested. It's what she'd always believed. She couldn't abide the belief everything was already written, and they simply had a part to play.

          "That's true in a sense," he argued. "Fate, just as the future, changes due to our choices. Like a fork in the road, the path we choose will determine our destinies. I've learned that the hard way, Belle." He caressed her cheek with the backs of his knuckles and smiled sadly. "What would have happened if I had accepted your love and not sent you away from me? How would my fate have been different if I hadn't made that deal with the cinder girl?" His voice grew thick with emotion. "If I hadn't let Baelfire go …"

          "We'll find him, Rumpel," she asserted with unfailing confidence. "You just have to have faith."

          "As long as I have you by my side, Belle, I know I can't fail. You keep me grounded." His arms wrapped around her shoulders, holding her tightly to his chest as he pressed a kiss to her brow. "You make me stronger."

          "I love you, Rumpelstiltskin."

          "Aye, dearest, I love you, too."

 

*.*.*

 

          "Pink?" he grumbled, holding up the silk button up between two fingers. "Whatever could the hatter have been thinking when he bought this?"

          Belle giggled, taking the shirt from him and tossing it onto the bed before wrapping her arms around him and pulling him down for a kiss. "Still so cute when you're grumpy," she teased, sucking gently at his lower lip.

          "If you keep this up, sweetheart, we're never going to leave this room," he growled lowly in warning, holding her tightly to his bare chest. His hands roamed slowly over the swell of her arse covered by her denim skirt, tugging her forward against his burgeoning erection. "Not that you'll hear one complaint from me."

          She moaned softly as his lips trailed over her cheek in a hot path to her ear. "I thought you were hungry."

          "I'm easily distracted."

          "After breakfast, I need to open the library." Regretfully, she freed herself from his embrace and picked up the shirt again, ignoring his doleful expression. She pulled the shirt on, leaving it open over her black tank and twirling in a circle. "What do you think? Should I wear it instead?"

          His dark gaze traversed over her body in open appreciation, his hands reaching for her once more. "Beautiful. But then you could wear a sack and look lovely, my Belle."

          "What a charmer," she chuckled, avoiding his grasping hands and searching through the rest of the clothes Jefferson had brought. She settled on a lovely charcoal gray which would look wonderful with the dark jeans he had already donned. "This one I think." She turned to find him rubbing at his brow. "What is it?"

          "Headache," he murmured, dropping heavily to sit on the side of the bed. "The curse is still active, still strong, Belle. It's an effort to keep out the memories Regina wrote into it for me."

          "What kind of memories did she give you? Is it possible they'll overcome your real memories?" she asked, kneeling between his parted knees and kneading gently at his shoulders.

          "No, but it makes it difficult to concentrate. At least I'm gleaning more information of this world, so I don't make a complete fool of myself. How would it look if we were in public and I had to ask you what a mailbox was?" His eyes were filled with the pain of his struggle. "Worry not, dear one. I have you. You'll not let me lose myself."

          She smoothed her hands over his hair and cradled his face in her warm palms, her thumbs caressing his sharp cheekbones. "I won't let you go, my love. I'll fight for you, and I'll fight  _with_  you at your side. I left you once at your insistence … I won't do it again. If you forget yourself, I'll be there to remind you of who you really are, and who we are together."

          He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in and letting her scent envelop and comfort him. "You've saved me so many times, Belle, taught me how to love again. I won't fail you." He withdrew, his dark eyes searching her face. "But there may be things I have to do which won't meet with your easy acceptance."

          "And we'll get through them together."

          "Aye, love, we will." This town, created by his curse, finally had its savior in the form of the Charming's daughter, but he had one of his own in his Belle. "Best we get started, yeah?"

 

*.*.*

 

          "What's in the bag?" Rumpelstiltskin asked as he walked at her side, her small hand tucked into his elbow as they made their way towards the diner.

          "Laptop."

          His brow furrowed as he rolled the unfamiliar word around silently on his tongue. "A form of portable computer, yes? A device to store, manage or acquire knowledge. I know what it is, but …" He shook his head, wondering if he'd ever make sense of all the data now in his jumbled mind.

          "Having the information about such things isn't going to do you a bit of good with no memory of putting them to use. Once you can see them, touch them, and use them, I think you'll have a better understanding and you won't be so confused," Belle said, smiling gently up at him. "At least you're doing well identifying people and remembering who they were in our land."

          The left corner of his lips twitched up into a smirk. "Naturally, dearest, considering there are many of them I've dealt with personally." He chuckled at the memory of the mail carrier who'd dropped his handful of letters outside the library and stared openly in shock as he and Belle had exited the building earlier. Belle had assured him it wasn't because they knew who he was, but merely his presence in their town. He was a stranger to them and that wasn't something they were used to in Storybrooke.

          "Guh! I'm starving," she grumbled, thankful they'd finally arrived at the diner. "And I need coffee in the worst way."

          Rumpelstiltskin followed her up the steps into the quaint clapboard building, the bell over the door jingling merrily. It – just like so many of the other things he'd witnessed that morning – was entirely too different to make him comfortable, but he held his tongue as he followed her to a booth and sat down with her on the same side, wanting to have her close. His eyes narrowed as he took in the many stares which seemed to have settled on them …  _him_  to be more exact.

          He arched a brow at the little princess who was openly gawking at him as she turned away from the counter with a cup in her hands, her gaze full of unspoken questions. She made her way over to their table without too much hesitation and smiled bravely.

          "Hi, Belle," Mary Margaret said, shifting from foot to foot.

          "Hey," Belle replied, gesturing to the seat opposite them. "I thought you'd have been on your way to school already."

          "N-No," she mumbled, casting furtive glances at Rumpelstiltskin. "It's only seven fifteen, so I have plenty of time."

          When she didn't say anymore, Belle's grin widened, and she turned to her true love. "Darling, this is Mary Margaret Blanchard. Mary Margaret, this is Mr. Gold, who has finally agreed to stop being a hermit and join the real world."

          "Pleasure," he fairly growled as he met the woman's gaze, taking great satisfaction in seeing her emerald eyes widen in fear. "What can I say, Miss French can be very persuasive."

          "I-It's nice to finally m-meet you, Mr. Gold," she stammered, the hand on the handle of her mug trembling. "So … ah … how do you know Belle?"

          "Actually," Belle said, turning to smile at him adoringly. "Mr. Dove asked me to bring some books to Mr. Gold one evening when he was delayed at the shop and we got to talking. It seems we have quite a few common interests, and we became friends."

          "And you never thought to tell anyone?" Mary Margaret asked, her eyes widening in stunned disbelief that Belle was such a skilled secret keeper.

          "We like our privacy, dearie."

          The look she gave Belle promised she'd be asking for details later when she brought her class to the library. Before she could ask more, the door to the diner was thrown open and Jefferson was making a bee line for their table. "Why aren't you answering your phone?" he asked, glaring accusingly at Belle.

          "Because I turned it off," she said apologetically, digging her iPhone out of the pocket of her skirt, "and apparently forgot to turn it back on. Sorry."

          "Hi, Mary Margaret," he greeted the schoolteacher absently as he removed his jacket and laid it over the back of the booth.

          She climbed hurriedly to her feet. "G'morning, Jeff. Well, I have to run, so I'll see you all later. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Gold."

          Jefferson flopped down into the booth opposite them and reached for a menu as Ruby finally made her way over to them. She didn't linger, however, moving off to fill their order for coffee. "Snow's a twitchy little rabbit, isn't she?" the hatter remarked idly as he tried to decide what he wanted to eat.

          Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. "It seems the curse did a number on her. She's nothing like the strong sovereign she was in our land."

          "More like the queen did a number on her. No one in Storybrooke is supposed to be happy except for Regina. This is her happy ending and screw the rest of us," he snarked, his voice dripping with irate sarcasm as he set the menu aside. He drummed his fingers against the laminate tabletop and studied his friend with renewed interest. "Nevermind her … how are you feeling?"

          Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. "Confused, anxious and all around out of sorts. I wasn't expecting cursed memories."

          "At least your real memories are intact. Let's keep it that way, shall we?" He turned to the waitress as she returned with their coffee. "Ah, Ruby, my darling girl."

          She rolled her eyes at Jefferson and tapped her pen against her order pad, used to the hatter's flamboyant nature. "So, what will you be having today, Jefferson?"

          "Chocolate chip pancakes, eggs and bacon, thanks."

          "Same for me, Ruby," Belle told her, laying her menu aside.

          "And for you, Mr. –"

          "Gold," he said, casting a predatory smile at the wolf girl.

          The color leeched from her face and her lips parted on a tiny gasp of surprise. "You're Gold?" she asked, unable to hide the hint of loathing in her voice. "Our landlord?"

          "In the flesh, dearie."

          She looked at Belle and Jefferson, her hazel eyes dark and accusing before she collected herself. "What would you like to order?"

          "Bacon, eggs sunny side up and a peach danish."

          She turned on her heel with a nod and went to call the order in. Jefferson chuckled. "You might as well get used to that reaction, Rum. Your name seems to instill fear and loathing in the masses."

          "Nothing I'm not already quite used to. It will hopefully work to our advantage and keep the curiosity seekers at bay."

          "There are some who I fear you won't easily escape," Belle said, adding cream and an unhealthy amount of sugar to her coffee as she nodded in Henry's direction.

          Rumpelstiltskin scowled down at the dark brew in his cup, his face twisting into a look of revulsion. "This is ghastly, Belle. How can you drink it?"

          "With copious amounts of sugar, darling," she quipped, passing him the sugar dispenser.

          "Oh, boy, here he comes," Jefferson sighed, scooting over in the booth to make room for the mayor's son. "Hi, Henry. Shouldn't you be on your way to school?"

          "Uh … yeah," he nodded, sitting down next to the hatter. "I'm waiting for Emma, though. She's walking me to the bus stop." He continued to stare avidly at Gold, his eyes narrowed questioningly. "I'm Henry," he finally said, holding out his hand for the pawnbroker to shake. "Who're you?"

          "Henry, this is Mr. Gold," Belle grinned, surprised when her love reached out and shook the boy's hand.

          "Nice to meet you, Henry," he said, holding the boy’s gaze. So, this was the savior's son, the only one outside of their little group who knew the truth about the queen's curse.

          "Why haven't I seen you before?"

          Rumpelstiltskin arched a brow at the boy. "Because I like to keep to myself, dearie."

          "What made you come out of hiding?"

          "I wasn't in hiding."

          "Why do you look so happy?"

          "Maybe because I am?"

          "No one's happy in this town."

          "Perhaps they just haven't found it yet?"

          "No," Henry shook his head. "It's more than that. My mom –"

          "Henry! There you are!" Emma called, rushing through the door. "Come on, kid, we're gonna be late."

          The boy rose to his feet, but continued to stare at Rumpelstiltskin with avid interest. "Yeah, well … see you around, Mr. Gold. Bye, Belle, Jeff," he said, running to Emma's side and following her out the door.

          Jefferson whistled softly between his teeth. "That one's gonna be trouble."

          "I don't think so," Rumpelstiltskin remarked thoughtfully, staring after the boy speculatively. "He very well may be the only one in this town who can make the savior believe."

          Belle yawned and rested her head against his shoulder. "He's a good boy and very,  _very_  smart. If anyone can do it, he can."

          Jefferson slung his arm across the back of the booth as he sipped at his coffee. "Long night, Belle?" he asked, waggling his brows suggestively and ignoring the dark scowl on Rumpelstiltskin's face. "I'm sure you were up all night …  _talking_. Ow!" he howled as Gold kicked him beneath the table.

          Belle giggled and rolled her eyes at their antics. Ruby came out with their breakfast and set it before them before turning her back on Gold with a glare and returning to the counter. The morning rush was in full swing and they had to put up with their share of curious glances as the townsfolk gawked at the stranger sitting with the town nutter and the sweet librarian.

          "So,  _Gold_ ," Jefferson smirked, tucking into his food. "What are your plans for today? I'm sure Dove wouldn't mind going over the books with you. You could become familiar with your shop. Most of your treasures are there, of course." He didn't miss the look shared between Rumpelstiltskin and his true love as he reached out to squeeze her hand.

          The sorcerer grinned, gesturing between himself and the hatter. "You and I, dearie, are going to spend the day in the library and get me up to speed on the nefarious deeds of our dear queen. I won't be rushing in before I know what I'm dealing with."

          The bell over the door rang and the hatter groaned. "You might not have a choice in that," he mumbled, pointing with his fork in Regina's direction.

          Rumpelstiltskin kept his eyes on his food as he continued to eat, the sound of the mayor's heels on the linoleum dampening his appetite just a bit. Belle pushed her plate aside and smiled at Regina, reaching for her coffee. Jefferson waved her into a seat before she spontaneously combusted from the rage boiling from her every pore. She wasted no time getting right to the point.

          "Why didn't you call me?" she hissed, her words for the hatter and her glare for the former imp.

          "It was late last night?" Jefferson asked, grinning unrepentantly.

          "And I suppose this morning was too early? I had to find out there was a stranger in town from that gossip of a mail carrier." She signaled to Ruby to bring her a cup of coffee, already feeling the mother of all headaches beginning behind her eyes. "Alright, what happened? How'd you get out?" she asked, turning her rage on Rumpelstiltskin.

          He regarded her coolly. "My, my, dearie, aren't we troubled."

          "No games, Rumpel, I'm not in the mood."

          He sat back in his seat and wrapped an arm around Belle's shoulders as Ruby came over with Regina's coffee and then cleared away their dishes. "Are you sure you wish to have this discussion here, m'dear? Not afraid to unleash my wrath before the masses?" he queried in a quiet tone so menacing it made the color drain from the queen's face.

          "Well, at least if we're in public, you won't kill me outright … not with witnesses," she said with false bravado.

          Jefferson leaned over and practically sang, "I wouldn't count on it."

          Belle laid her hand atop his and shook her head before she returned her gaze to the queen. "Is this why you allowed me to buy the painting? Because you knew I could free him?"

          Regina sniffed imperiously. "I knew if anyone could, it would be you. I told you long ago true love's kiss would break any curse … although I would have paid good money to see you kissing that painting. Your memories returned, too, I see." She realized her mistake when his cool fingers curled painfully over her wrist.

          "That's another thing, dearie. I am not happy about you keeping my Belle from me before the curse." The queen gnashed her teeth as his grip tightened. "What do you think I should do about that, hm?"

          "You deserved it after what you did!"

          "I did nothing!"

          "You prevented me from having my revenge," she snarled. "Your little test for Snow –"

          "Which you failed. It's your own fault … no one else's. You took my treasure and locked her in a tower. It is fortunate for you I can't access my magic at present."

          "Rumpel …" Belle whispered near his ear and he released Regina, the tension leeching from his shoulders.

          "I could have killed her, y'know, but I didn't."

          "Only because you thought she might be useful. Know this,  _your majesty_ , I will not tolerate any of your schemes against my Belle. Are we clear?"

          "Yes," she sneered, hoping if she agreed, his retribution wouldn't be quite so dire. "I don't see why you're complaining. She's had a decent life here in Storybrooke, and I upheld my end of our bargain by providing comfort for you … if you were ever released from the painting."

          "Did you know what they were planning to do beforehand?" he asked, studying her.

          "Of course not, Gold. You are much more useful to me when you actually have a pulse," she snapped. "Why wouldn't I have tried to free you from your cell before that fairy came up with her scheme?"

          "Very well, dearie." He rose from the booth and offered Belle his hand which she took gladly. His eyes bored into the queen's. "I propose a truce … for now. You stay out of my way and I won't kill you. Deal?"

          "Fine," she agreed, finding it better not to press her luck. "But we're not finished."

          Jefferson snorted as he nudged the queen from the booth, tossed some bills onto the table and donned his jacket.

          Gold smirked and turned on his heel, leading Belle outside.

          "Do you really think it's wise to bait the queen, darling?" she asked, matching his pace as they made their way back to the library.

          Rumpelstiltskin nodded to Jefferson, urging him to continue on without them as he pulled her to a stop. "Sweetheart, that wasn't baiting. I was simply telling her what I will not tolerate, and if she knows what's good for her, she'll listen." He cradled her face in his hands and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, uncaring if they were being watched by the curious passersby. "I won't allow her to hurt you or interfere in our business, Belle. You are far too important to me. I will protect you and together we'll help the savior break the curse."

          "And then we can find Bae and put this all behind us," she sighed.

          "Yes … we'll be a family."

          Jefferson leaned lazily against the front door of the library, one brow arched as he watched his friends approach. Rumpelstiltskin let a rare genuine smile bloom on his lips. "So, what's next?" the hatter asked as Belle unlocked the doors and led them inside.

          "Come along, hatter," Gold said with a chuckle. "We've work to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I was going to end this little fic with the last chapter, but I had so many asks wanting a confrontation between Rum and Regina I decided to write one more. I really hope you enjoyed it. Thank you so much Licie, for the wonderful prompt! :D

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Please don't kill me! I will be posting the second chapter tomorrow … I promise :o) I am simply adoring this prompt and you know how long winded I am lol. But I promise I will have the next part tomorrow, filled with True Love Fluff, Reunion Smut and all the goodies. Please let me know what you think.
> 
> Special thanks to Emilie Brown for making the awesome sauce cover for this fic! She's amazing!


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